it was now and we were both in the same place
by nicalyse
Summary: "Stop sending me mixed messages!" One-shot.


He doesn't want to like Santana.

Well, it's not that he doesn't want to so much as he thinks it's one of those things that can only end badly. So he's kind of trying not to.

They ended up at the same college after high school, but it wasn't like they were friends. He saw her like, a handful of times the first two years he was there; if it wasn't for Facebook, he probably wouldn't even have known that she was still there.

He saw her for the first time in however long on his twenty-first birthday. He was at the pub with the guys and she was just there, standing at the bar in this criminally hot green dress with her hair all long and wavy. He didn't really mean to slide his hand over her ass, but he was really fucking drunk and that's what happened, and she definitely didn't mind. He found out that she was celebrating her birthday, too, and since neither of them had any cash to buy the other a drink, he ended up taking her back to his so they could give each other birthday sex.

And that was the beginning of this thing they've been doing ever since.

It's been three years, and they've both graduated and gotten jobs and stuff, and really, Finn thinks they're kind of too old for the friends with benefits thing. That said, at least now he can actually call Santana his friend. When they first started sleeping together, they never hung out; it was always just sex, period, and he was okay with that. School kept him busy, and after spending all four years of high school in relationships (and a good chunk of his freshman year of college trying to do the long-distance thing with Rachel, which was a massive failure), he liked being on his own. Once he and Santana met up again, it was like the best of both worlds: he got to be a single guy, but he also got to have awesome sex with one of the most gorgeous girls he's ever seen.

It's changed in the last year though. They actually hang out now, occasionally without ending up naked, and he knows that he's playing with fire. He's had a chance to really get to know her, and it turns out that Santana is cool as hell and he really likes spending time with her. He knows Santana doesn't do the relationship thing though, so he's making a conscious effort not to get too familiar or whatever and give her a reason to end this thing they're doing.

* * *

><p>She comes over after work one night when he's watching the Royals get their asses handed to them by the Indians, dropping her purse onto an armchair and gathering her hair in her hands. "Do you have any beer?" she asks, dropping her hair so it spills down her back. He glances pointedly at the bottle in his hand and she rolls her eyes, crossing in front of the television on her way to the kitchen, deliberately slowing her steps. It just makes him grin.<p>

She reappears a minute later with a Blue Moon. "You hate Blue Moon," she states.

Finn shrugs. "You don't." But yeah, he really, really hates it. What the hell kind of beer is it if they serve it with a slice of _orange_ at the bar?

She watches him as she takes a drink, then crosses the room, sets her bottle on the coffee table, and leans over to kiss him soundly before getting on her knees between his legs. "That's kind of sweet, Finn," she tells him, eyes locked with his while she unbuckles his belt.

He knows he looks like an idiot, just staring down at her, but seriously? He buys a six of the beer she likes and she's-

"_Santana_," he hisses when she leans down to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. She smirks up at him, wrapping her hand around his length and stroking slowly to get him hard. (It's not going to take long.)

He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. "My day sucked," she tells him. He struggles to keep his eyes open when she twists her wrist. "'So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to suck you off, and then I'm going to drink that beer." She leans down again, licking a circle around the head of his cock and making it really fucking difficult to listen to what she's saying. "And then you're going to fuck me so hard that I forget how much I want to strangle my coworkers. Okay?"

He barely manages to answer her before she's wrapping her lips around him.

Later, after he's made her scream his name (and yeah, that's exactly as awesome as it sounds), he goes to the kitchen for a glass of water, draining half and refilling it again before he takes it back to his bedroom. She's sitting up on her knees in his bed, looking at her reflection in the mirror over his dresser and combing her fingers through her hair. He gets onto the bed on his knees behind her, leaning down to kiss the back of her shoulder just because he can. "Are you leaving?" he asks, holding the glass of water out for her to take.

She takes a long sip, then puts the glass back in his hand. "Yeah."

She seems kind of pissed when she's getting dressed, but he learned a long time ago not to ask Santana certain questions, so he just lays there and keeps his mouth shut.

"Thanks for the beer," she murmurs against his lips when she kisses him, and then she's out of his room before he gets a chance to answer.

* * *

><p>He goes out with a couple of the guys on Friday night, and somehow 'having a couple of beers' turns into 'having a few shots of 1800' and drunk dialing Santana. She laughs, calls him a drunk ass, and tells him to have another shot before he comes over.<p>

He kisses her as soon as he's in her apartment, pinning her back against the door and grinding his hips into hers as he pushes his tongue into her mouth. "Why did you tell me to take another shot before I came over?" he asks, kissing along her jaw and nipping at her earlobe with his teeth.

She tilts her head to the side to give him better access to her neck, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. "Because," she answers, sliding her hands over his shoulders so his shirt falls to the floor, "tequila makes you fuck like you have something to prove."

He pulls back to look down at her, grinning as he hooks his arm around her waist and pulls her against him. He's hard against her stomach, and the friction feels fucking awesome. "Yeah?"

She puts her arms around his neck, standing on her toes and pressing herself against him. "Yeah."

He ends up pushing her over the arm of the couch and taking her from behind, his fingers digging in and practically bruising her hip when she comes around him and pulls him over the edge.

"How are you so amazing?" he asks her when he's caught his breath. He's lying on the couch with her on top of him, her naked body pressed against his in the best way ever while he combs his fingers through her hair.

She lets out a little laugh and turns her head to press her lips to his chest. "Shut up, Finn."

"No, seriously," he says, tugging the back of her hair just gently so she'll look up at him. "You're like...the most awesome."

"You're drunk," she points out, laughing harder and maneuvering herself until she's straddling his thighs. Yeah, he is, and maybe that's why he brings his hand between her legs, brushing his fingers over her lightly, watching her eyelids flutter closed. "Jesus, _Finn_."

He's going to fuck her again, but not right now. Instead, he pushes her off his lap, tugging her to the edge of the seat and spreading her legs as he slips to the floor and kneels between them. He loves the way she buries her hands in his hair and tugs when he puts his mouth against her, the way she breathes out his name when he presses the flat of his tongue to her clit.

They're in her bed when he takes her again, and he ends up falling asleep after, the result of the combination of exhaustion and alcohol. He wakes up the next morning with his arm draped over her waist as he sleeps on his stomach, and he doesn't completely realize that he's pulling her closer until she says his name in this sleepy, scratchy voice. "Sorry," he mutters, pulling his hand from her body. Her eyebrows come together when she opens her eyes and looks at him. "I fell asleep."

She takes a deep breath, then lets out a little hum, her eyes falling closed again.

"'m'gonna go," he tells her, sliding out of the bed. He scrubs his hands over his face, looking around for his pants until he remembers that they're in the living room.

She sits up a little, holding the sheet against her chest like he hasn't been seeing her naked on a regular basis for three years. "Okay."

He leaves her there to go find his clothes. It's a little weird to be getting dressed in the middle of her living room, but whatever. He makes sure he has his wallet and his phone, then goes back into her bedroom to tell her goodbye, finds her sitting up in bed sort of staring off into space. She looks surprised when he crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. He slips his hand into her hair as he kisses her. "I'll call you later, okay?'

She lets out a little breath, then nods. "Fine."

* * *

><p>They're at his place one night watching the <em>Kill Bill<em> movies because he's never seen them and Santana has a thing for tall blondes (still). Her dad calls, so she goes into Finn's bedroom and closes the door after shaking her head when he asks if she wants him to pause the movie.

He can tell she's upset when she comes back and sits beside him, crossing her arms and putting her feet back up on the edge of coffee table like they were before. He pauses the movie and ignores her glare when he asks, "What's up?"

"My dad," she answers, shaking her head a little. It isn't really an answer, because Santana's dad is kind of awesome and they get along really well as far as Finn knows. She rolls her eyes when she sees the look he's still giving her. "He's giving me grief about going home for my grandma's birthday, but it's not like I can take off work in the middle of the week to go eat crappy cake in fucking Lima."

"Don't you hate your grandma?" he asks delicately.

"Yes!" She laughs a little when she looks over at him. "I just don't know why he won't let it go."

"Because sometimes parents suck," he tells her seriously. "My mom pulls the same shit sometimes. It sucks, but whatever." He shrugs. "Like, send her a gift and call her and make up for it. It'll be fine."

She looks at him for a second, then puts her hands on his face and leans in to kiss him. "Take off your pants," she murmurs against his lips, nipping along his jaw with her teeth when he pulls away to laugh.

* * *

><p>Santana eats like a guy, but without looking gross, which is basically the most awesome combination ever, and they're both borderline obsessed with the house specialty from this local pizza place. It's got pepperoni and sausage and onions and garlic, and they drizzle it with this crazy-hot chili oil at the end. Actually, she's the only person he's willing to share with, because she's the only one he's never had to fight for the last slice.<p>

They polish one off at his place one Monday night. They both had shitty days at work, so they decided that pizza and sex - since being adults with jobs mean they can't get drunk on a Monday night - was the best way to make up for it.

Santana tilts her head at the television as she takes a sip of water. They're watching wrestling because there's nothing else on. (Plus, she thinks it's funny to point out all of the '_obvious homo-erotic undertones_,' whatever the hell that means.) "The only bad thing about this pizza is what it does to your breath," she comments, watching some shirtless guy do a backflip off the top rope.

"You have a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," he tells her, talking around the crust he's chewing.

Her eyebrows are raised when he looks over at her. "I do?"

Finn shrugs. "The one you used the last time you slept here."

It's not like a creepy thing. He always keeps an extra toothbrush in the linen closet; using your finger and toothpaste really sucks, and besides, his mom told him to always keep extra toilet paper and an extra toothbrush on hand, and it's one of the few things he's actually managed to keep up with. Anyhow, the last time she fell asleep at his, he gave her the spare, and when he found it on the counter after he left, he just stuck it in the medicine cabinet in case she needed it again. No, he wouldn't hate it if she used it on a regular basis, but he knows better than to tell her that.

"Oh." She blinks once, then stands up and walks down the hall, and a second later, he hears the water running in the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, when they're both at work, they talk on gchat. Yeah, maybe it's unprofessional, but sometimes they have downtime and it's not like they're having cybersex or whatever. (Are people still having cybersex?) They just talk about whatever and bitch about their coworkers, and sometimes they send each other links to funny things. She totally saved his ass when he was trying to buy this pasta maker attachment for his mom's KitchenAid mixer (it was what she asked for for Christmas, so it wasn't as lame as it sounds), sending links to him when he couldn't figure it out.<p>

He stops at the bookstore on his way home from work one afternoon to pick up this crazy expensive fashion coffee table book (or whatever) that he ordered for Kurt's birthday, and when he's standing in line wondering why this book is so freaking heavy and why there's a line at a bookstore at 5:30 in the afternoon, he sees this book Santana sent him a link to a couple of days ago and mentioned she wanted to read. So he grabs it, thinking that he'll give it to her next time he sees her.

He leaves it in the passenger side floorboard of his car, and yeah, he kind of forgets about it until Santana has to take her car in to get her brake pads replaced. (And no, it isn't at all a surprise that the girl's hard on her brakes.) He meets her there to pick her up so she doesn't have to spend her entire Saturday waiting around at some garage for her car to be finished.

"What's this?" she asks, grabbing the bag off the floor when she slides into the passenger seat. Because she's Santana, she doesn't wait for an answer before she pulls it open and looks. "This is that book I told you about," she says, looking over at him.

"Yeah, I got it for you," he says, sliding his key into the ignition and looking out at the traffic on the street as he starts the car. Pulling out into this is going to suck. "I forgot about it," he adds absently.

"You got it for me?"

He realizes too late that she sounds kind of pissed, because she's hitting him on the arm with the book. (Which hurts exactly not at all.) "Santana! What the hell?"

She hits him again - which still doesn't hurt, but come on - so he snatches the book away from her. "Stop sending me mixed messages!" she cries.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You aren't supposed to be buying me shit." It sounds like an accusation, and she's glaring at him so hard that if he didn't know her, he'd be legitimately scared right now. In fact, he can't say that he's inot/i scared of her.

Sometimes Santana gets way, way ahead of him, and he has no idea how she got there. So he holds a hand up to her - which he can see is just pissing her off more, but whatever - and tries to figure out what the hell she's talking about. "You're mad that I bought you a book?" he asks.

"You give a fuck buddy lingerie, not a fucking book," she snaps.

"Well, you aren't just my fuck buddy, Santana."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" she explodes, and Finn is so completely confused that he doesn't know where to start.

He just looks at her for a second, breathing hard with her eyebrows pulled together the way they get when she's upset about something. "Can we stop yelling?" he asks quietly. "Because I'm really confused, and I'd like to know why you're so pissed off about this book."

"Oh, my god, it isn't about the book," she says, rolling her eyes dramatically, but she isn't yelling any more. "It really pisses me off how fucking dense you are sometimes."

He bites his tongue to keep from apologizing, because as much as he'd like to, he kind of doesn't think this little thing is all his fault, and he tries to only say he's sorry if he really means it. And, you know, knows why he's saying it. "If it isn't the book," he begins carefully, "what is it?"

She shakes her head and looks straight ahead, out at the traffic on the street in front of them. "I don't know when I started actually caring about you or whatever, but I do, okay?" She isn't looking at him and she sounds completely bored; that's how he knows that everything she's saying is the truth. "And you drunk dial me and leave right after sex, but you have beer that you hate in your fridge for me."

"Santana-"

"I have a toothbrush in your medicine cabinet, Finn," she interrupts, finally looking over at him. "I can't figure out what all of this is for you, and it's making me crazy."

It's so fucking stupid, but all he can do is laugh at her. Really though, the fact that they've both been sitting around thinking basically the same stuff? It's hilarious.

"I always thought you didn't want to be in a relationship," he says when he sees her gaping at him.

"I didn't. But apparently I've been drinking the Kool-Aid, too, because instead of thinking you're annoying, you're all endearing and shit."

He shakes his head. "No, I mean, I've been trying to give you space and whatever," he tells her. "I thought you'd freak out if I got too close and acted like I wanted to be with you."

She lets out a little breath and bites her lip. "Do you want to be with me?" she asks after a moment.

"I'd like to try," he tells her honestly. "I want to see what it's like when I can do what I want without worrying about you freaking out on me."

She smiles. "I can't promise that I won't freak out."

He's pretty sure that she _will_ freak out at some point, actually, but he keeps that to himself, reaching out to catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can kiss her gently. He could probably learn how to deal with it.


End file.
